


Teach me?

by OrlesianTruffles



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Lavellan can be convincing, Pressure of being the Inquisitor, Teaching Dalish Girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrlesianTruffles/pseuds/OrlesianTruffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona Lavellan is fed up with her tutors assigned to her by her advisers. Certainly, Solas would make a far better teacher. If he can keep his patience in check. </p><p>Fluffy nonsense with my Inquisitor Fiona Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach me?

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the very poor editing job I've done. I wrote this when I was quite exhausted, but I just couldn't get the idea out of my head.

“Just this once?”

“No.” His answer was firm. Unwavering.

“Oh come on.” She nearly whined, shifting in her sturdy wooden chair, her bare feet tapping against the stone floors of the rotunda. 

“You walk a thin line, da’len. I’m warning you now. You cannot even begin to outlast my patience.” His voice was tight, smug even. And all she wanted to do was punch that smug face of his. Or possibly kiss it. It could really have gone either way for her. She rolled her eyes as she ran her fingers through her impossibly wild hair, twisting a piece between her fingers. Much to her adviser’s dismay, Fiona Lavellan’s hair was a tangled, sometimes matted mess, of blonde braids and curls, the color of sun bleached wheat. She absolutely despised having it brushed, and much preferred to let it be wild, or to tie it back, most of it falling out from its binding. 

“You’re being utterly ridiculous. Hahren.” The way she said Hahren made Solas take a sharp intake of breath, he pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to let her get to him. Her fingers danced their way across his desk, the tips just barely grazing a piece of chocolate. Beautiful little works of art, filled with smoky liquors and tart fruits, decorated and painted as though they belonged in a museum, or perhaps a palace. Solas quickly, but not roughly, flicked her fingers away from the tray.

“And you, da’len, are being childish.” Secretly he hated doing this to her. Seeing her frown at the letters in front of her, the dark circles hanging under her eyes. Her advisers had insisted she learn how to read and write, that it was vital to a woman of her station. It’s not that her clan had neglected to teach her, they had done the best they good, with Fiona’s free spirited nature, he imagined it was near to impossible to get her to commit to learning how to write and read when there were far more interesting lessons to be learned out in the forest and lakes. At times he wondered why she had been chosen to leave and act as a spy for the conclave. The idea of her clan being eager to rid themselves of her left a sour taste in his mouth. 

 

Tutor after tutor had been called in until at last, Fiona broke and ran into the mountains with only her bow and hart. The moment had been spectacular, as she threw a book across the library and nearly took out one of Leliana’s ravens. The book ultimately feel down and into Solas’s office, knocking both a candle and cup of tea over. He still hadn’t sorted out which annoyed him more, his notes nearly catching on fire, or everything reeking of tea. He had wanted to give her space, but with all eyes suddenly on him as he mopped up the offending liquid from his desk, he begrudging left immediately. Solas found her less than a mile from Skyhold, her arrow steady and targeting a ram. He watched as she steadied her breath, drawing the bow tight towards her lips, whispering a prayer as she locked eyes with the animal. With a defeated sigh, he watched as she lowered her bow and let the ram continue to search for plant life among the snow. With a small and knowing smile he approached her, keeping his footsteps heavy as to not startle her. Holding up a cloth bag towards her, he offered to share a lunch, not needing to ask her with words. She nodded slowly, tears still in her eyes, grateful for him. 

As they ate, his curiosity got the better of him. He watched her closely before at last asking the question burning inside of him. “Vhenan, why do you not wish to learn? Why do you fight it? You are always so full of questions for me, about…everything. Even topics I could not possibly know the answer too.” She snorted. 

“Solas, I can’t believe you didn’t know if dwarfs are born with chest hair.” She rolled her eyes, tearing at a hunk of bread with her teeth. 

“Vhenan…” He signed gently rubbing her shoulder with hand, he knew she was trying to avoid the topic. Fiona slumped forward slightly, defeated.

“Everyone they brought in, the best tutors in all of Thedas, for me, a Dalish elf. It was kind of them really. But…Creators…I just….I…” She stood suddenly, pacing, trying to bring words to her emotions. Solas sat still, watching her, letting her take her time. 

“I didn’t ask for this Solas. Any of this. And now I have to dress a certain way, act a certain way…’smile, you never know who’s watching Inquisitor!’” Fiona’s impression of Sister Nightingale’s thick Orlesian accent was very convincing and Solas found that he couldn’t possibly hold back his laughter. Fiona smiled and lightly kissed his cheek.

“Did you know what the last ‘highly educated, highly recommended tutor’,” This time she tried Josephine’s rolling Antivan accent. “Asked me? He called me a savage.” She nearly growled closing her hands into fists with a glare. “He actually asked me if I was born outside. As though it were some unspeakable curse.” Solas raised a brow, tilting his head slightly towards her. While he had his own issues with the Dalish, he knew her people lived the way that they did for a reason, and tried to keep to their codes, no matter how misguided they may be, he could not fault them for that. 

“And what did you tell him?” Solas leaned forward as he asked her. She barked out a loud laugh. 

“I told him yes, and then made up some fantastic story about sacrificing live stock in the name of the Gods.” She bit the side of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. She wasn’t proud of it, but she might have taken some joy in seeing the man’s look of horror. 

“Vhenan.” She spun around quickly to face him. 

“I can’t learn from these people. I can’t—“She paused, her eyes growing wide. With a snap of her fingers she pointed to Solas, nearly startling him. “You! Solas! Vhenan’ara! Beautiful man of my dreams! Teach me!” He blinked rapidly, feeling as though his fate had been decided for him. 

“What?” 

“Teach me how to write and read common.” She passed as she trailed a delicate finger along his jaw. “And...In elven.” She purred the last word. He knew she was trying to entice him, it was obvious. Even the damned ram she decided not to put an arrow through, knew she was trying to win him over. He delighted in having the chance to teach her something so important to him, but he knew all too well that she would challenge him at every step. 

“Inquisitor, I do not know if that is wise, I have many things I am currently working on, and to take my attention away from those causes—“She cut him off, placing a finger against his lips.

“Oh, Inquisitor is it?” She threw her head back and laughed, her wild, unkempt hair brushing her shoulders and arms. “That settles it! Vhenan, no, Hahren! We shall begin tomorrow!” She pounced forward, kissing him, taking the breath from his lungs. How could he ever refuse her? He gave in with a small sigh, returning her kiss with a fierce passion. 

 

Solas dropped a heavy tomb on his desk, causing Fiona to gasp and jump, bolting back up to a sitting position. She had fallen asleep during their lesson. While it annoyed him greatly that she fell asleep while he was trying to teach her, he knew she was exhausted beyond measure. He had let her sleep for over an hour before waking her. She scrambled to find her place again in the book she was reading. Solas leaned forward, gently kissing the side of her head before correcting her words as she read out loud. Fiona smiled, her elven clear, and accent near perfect. Yes, this was far better than he had hoped.


End file.
